Voldemort vs Vader
by My Left One
Summary: After taking over the Earth at the end of The Deathly Hallows, a bored Voldemort decides to go back in time in an attempt to conquer the Empire as well. All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and George Lucas. 12 CHAPTERS TOTAL.
1. Small Victories

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 1**

**Small Victories**

Voldemort put the book down in disgust, rattling the bronze lantern and martini glass on the side table. He had read it more than a hundred times, and it still managed to anger him. So wrong, he thought. It was a surprise when he first read it. This fundamental error bothered the Dark Lord every single time he saw it.

"I would have known," he said aloud. "I did know. Every thirteen-year-old girl on the planet knew."

His snake, Nagini, hissed in agreement. It was coiled up at Voldemort's feet, in front of the roaring fire. The old house creaked from the wind outside. A full winter gale was blowing, and the snow piled up against the windows in an idyllic wintry tableau.

"She misunderestimated me, Nagini," said Voldemort. He chuckled at the word. It had been coined by one of his death-eaters; a truly brilliant man. Voldemort had told them all that the takeover of the world would be much easier if they put themselves in positions of power, as close to legally as possible. Then they would cast a pall of fear, while draining their nations' coffers and making defense against the takeover impossible. This one death-eater had done brilliantly by making his minions think he was an innocent buffoon. The most powerful nation. It made the rest of it a cinch.

Still, the author of the book he had angrily thrown down had gotten so much of it right, more than many writers throughout history. She had added an entirely new understanding of the wizarding world for millions of her readers. In a way, that too paved the way for the takeover. When the people found out that Voldemort was real, and that Harry Potter was in no condition to save them, they panicked.

There were no armies to defeat Voldemort and his followers. No tanks, no bombs, and no intelligence organizations could stop him. Now the muggles cowered in their basements, while the frozen earth outside suffered years of winter. Crops and beasts died, water froze. Sunlight never broke through the constant darkness.

How was she so wrong? Before the final book, most of her readers had figured out that Harry was a horcrux. Of course he was! Voldemort knew that. He figured it out in the instant his curse failed to kill Harry as a tiny child, the same instant in which he found himself drifting in darkness. His mission was never to kill the boy after that. Once he returned, he had to create the illusion that he wanted to kill Harry, simply to hide the fact that he knew.

For years the boy and his imbecile buddies fought him off. For years everybody protected the kid from death, when that was never Voldemort's intention.

Then the boy walked right into his camp in the forest, thinking he had to sacrifice himself to save the world. That could have been true enough. Maybe everything would have happened as written after that. Rowling was quite correct about so much up to that point. What angered Voldemort so much about the scene in the woods was that she obviously thought he was a fucking retard.

Kill the boy, when all creation knew he was a horcrux? Yes, some of the death-eaters gasped in surprise when Voldemort instead froze Harry solid and bound him up in an impenetrable cocoon. Instead of killing Harry, the Dark Lord kept him in suspension, and in severe pain, in this frozen state ever since. He was not dead, yet not alive.

Upon leaving the forest, taking the school was easy. There would be no Neville killing the snake. Bellatrix would remain very much alive, unlike poor Mrs. Weasley. The idiot Ron got away with his life, but not with his left arm or leg. And that insipid Hermione; she was turned into stone and shattered against the wall of the great hall. Voldemort grinned thinking about it.

So did you, just now.

It was a simple matter of time before taking all of Britain, then Europe and Asia. Dragons and other beasts everywhere were unleashed in the service of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his crew. Even he was surprised by the power of evil and darkness. How quickly men, wizards and muggles alike, could be turned to it.

The countries of the new world fought him off a bit longer. With the richest nation already in political turmoil, it became a matter of giving its people a purpose in the service of Voldemort, instead of against him. Then he could spread their armies to the rest of the continent. The violence that erupted after that was breathtaking.

Voldemort reveled in listening to daily reports on the BBC. Every day, thousands more were dead. Another government had toppled. People were turning to him in droves, if only to stop the attacks. They did his bidding readily. The takeover became like a toy; once wound, it simply ran on and on without pause. Voldemort had barely to lift his wand, and armies fell before him.

Payback time had arrived. This was payback for centuries of oppression at the hands of muggles. All the derision and contempt. All the drownings, stonings and burnings. So many thousands of years getting it wrong. From the stories of the Pharaohs to Moses and Jesus, Gandalf and Merlin, Ghandi and Michael Jackson, human historians and authors had made so many errors that people barely had an understanding of who wizards were and what they did.

But they knew now.

The lives of muggles had one purpose from now on; to serve wizardry. Every one of them wore a collar that made them susceptible even to the least-skilled wizards. They never fought back, for fear of incredible pain. Voldemort had found out that they preferred death to their miserable state of existence, so he made sure that the survivors of the takeover could never die, neither by their own hand nor anyone else's. They starved and bled, and froze, but they could not perish.

One side-effect of the takeover did come as a surprise. Once it was complete, the Earth was in relative peace, more peaceful than it had been in thousands of years. Only the turbulent winter weather provided any violence. Voldemort and his death-eaters were able to settle down into a lifestyle of luxury, with every need provided for by their muggle slaves.

Voldemort had a new problem: boredom.

There had been no commerce and no manufacture of anything for a few years. His magazines were getting older, though as he looked outside at the snowstorm, he realized it was sometimes fun to read another aged Global Warming prediction. His books were getting ragged, and his DVD player was showing signs of wear. It had seen a lot of action lately.

The Dark Lord was surprised to find that he was a mainstream movie buff. He had watched every Kevin Smith film several times, as well as those from the Coen brothers. Naturally, he had several copies of the Harry Potter films, and he enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He also had a weakness for a movie called 'Die Hard', and he enjoyed quoting the character of Hans Gruber, despite the same guy having portrayed the turncoat death-eater Severus Snape.

Snape was still in love? That was definitely one count for Rowling. Voldemort never figured that one out.

Voldemort also had his dislikes. Except for the Potter series, he avoided any movie featuring Ralph Fiennes, especially the sappy one with Jennifer Lopez.

One set of films Voldemort had watched over and over again was his Star Wars box set. He figured George Lucas was a genius. Rowling had divined a detailed story about something that was actually happening on Earth, while managing to pass it off as fiction. This was impressive enough, but Lucas had done the same thing regarding another galaxy.

Unfortunately, like Rowling, Lucas misunderestimated his antagonists in the end. The Emperor and Darth Vader were very powerful wizards, but in the story, they had a serious flaw. They thought they could persuade their young nemesis to join them. Voldemort had even taken to yelling at the screen, alarming his pet snake.

"Fools, he will not join you! Kill him!" Voldemort sometimes yelled during the scene on the Death Star. He had ruined four televisions by casting the killing curse at the Jedi Luke.

Voldemort knew that Vader may have been too sentimental about his son ruling the galaxy by his side to understand that it could never happen, but the Emperor would never have been fooled. He surely would have killed Luke on sight and continued to destroy the rebellion. Maybe the Empire was still in charge in that faraway galaxy.

Voldemort had never even considered turning Harry to his side. The boy was almost powerless anyway, and would be useless as a death-eater. He had that same Luke Skywalker thing going on; that 'Good, loyal, pure-as-the-driven snow' dorkiness about him. Harry would have died rather than turned. That, of course, was his biggest mistake.

Voldemort glanced at the darkness and the flying snow outside the window. This Earth had been easy to take over. Tipping the balance of its power was not really a challenge at all. He was dismayed. His greatness paled in comparison to the wizards of the past, especially to those who ruled entire star systems and galaxies.

He wanted that same glory. He had already built a legacy here on Earth, but that was nothing. There was so much more. Voldemort had an idea. He had seen enough stories involving time travel, including the Potter series itself, to know how it was done. He knew he could cover great distances of time and space, bending it to his will. This was possible.

The insignificant Earth was just a warmup act. Voldemort had so much more conquering to do. He decided that his real accomplishments would occur a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.


	2. The Seed of Evil

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 2**

**The Seed of Evil**

Something rustled in the stillness of the dark night. The moons glowed like a dim candle, casting a grim reddish light over the meadow. The grasses swayed vigorously as a gentle breeze suddenly became a roaring tempest. It was a tiny windstorm, just about the size of a car. It spun wildly and twisted the grasses and shrubs, ripping them out by the roots and throwing them into its spiral. An electrical charge snapped in the vortex, and then more charges appeared. The shocks of electricity multiplied into a ball of energy.

The ball expanded to cover several square feet of ground. A form appeared in the middle, and the lightning charges began to subside. The ball of energy suddenly vanished, and the wind dissipated, throwing the grasses into the field. It left a concave circle of burnt soil, with flames still licking at its edges. There was a man kneeling in the center.

The man stood up. He was a tall, thin, pure white man with a flattened nose. He reached up to feel his completely bald head and the breeze picked up a little. Upon feeling it, he opened his eyes as if startled, and looked down.

"Where the fuck is my cloak?" Voldemort screamed. He looked around. A couple of fat, round buffalo-type creatures stood chewing their cud a dozen yards away. They looked back at him with total disinterest. Except for them, there was no other object around. No wand and no cloak.

Voldemort could barely make out the mountains against the dim sky. Far away in the valley, a high waterfall glowed in the darkness. He was in a broad meadow, where the knee-high grass appeared to be a brilliant green laced with white flowers. At least it looked that way in the dark. In the distance, lights glowed at the bottom of the hill. Voldemort looked down once more, and trudged off toward the lights wearing only a scowl.

He approached a small village that looked like it belonged in the medieval era. He saw no people. Behind one of the little mud and straw huts, Voldemort saw laundry hanging on a line. The only item large enough to be a cloak was a brightly-colored flowery silk robe. He grabbed it and put it on.

Voldemort was furious. There were many different ways to travel through time, but he needed to cover space as well. A lot of the methods had flaws. The contraption from H.G. Wells' Time Machine stayed in one place. The Stargate stayed in one time. The Time-Turner used by Harry Potter was too inexact. Apparation could never cover the distance. The phone booth in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure was not airtight.

Various other methods involved a starship, a wormhole, or a Vulcan, none of which Voldemort had.

It was Bellatrix who recommended the method from the Terminator films. Voldemort had not seen them. He boycotted Arnold Schwarzenegger since the Conan series, which was so imprecise about magic that it approached blasphemy.

But Bellatrix had left out the little detail about clothes. He imagined her and the rest of the death-eaters laughing their asses off back on Earth.

Voldemort had to find out where he was, and when. The plan was simple, really. Bellatrix had said this form of time-travel was a one-way trip, so Voldemort had a true challenge in front of him. The goal was to start from nothing and take over the Empire, and then he could figure out how to get back to Earth.

It was exactly what he wanted; No death-eaters, no technology, and no help. He looked down at his flowery cloak. Nothing. He had covered one base already.

Next, he needed a wand. Now that he didn't need to deal with Potter, anything would do. Voldemort peered through a window into the little hut. A pudgy man sat at a table, writing with a brightly-colored quill. A woman sat next to him, reading from a parchment or something, shaped more like a large leaf.

The quill would work for now. Voldemort kicked in the small front door and ducked through the opening. It was a foot shorter than he was. He could barely stand up in the tiny house.

The woman screamed and ran toward the back door. "Who are you?" yelled the man, standing up.

"Hello," Voldemort said, grinning broadly like he was there to sell vacuum cleaners. He raised a hand and drew it across the air like he was petting an invisible cat. The man lifted the quill. "Yes, I will take that, thank you" said the Dark Lord as he pulled the quill from the man's hand.

"Ovie, what are you doing?!" yelled the woman.

"I always wondered if that would work," Voldemort said, looking at his hands.

The man trembled, but he stood firm. "Please, we are peaceful. Take what you need, friend, and go," he said.

Voldemort felt his blood surge at the man's insolence. Friend? It took great effort to maintain a smile.

"I just wanted to thank you, Ovie," Voldemort said. "And I need to know if this is the Galactic Empire."

"Empire? What?" Suddenly, the man's eyes shifted downward, behind Voldemort. The Dark Lord turned around. A small boy of maybe seven years old stood in a doorway.

"Who's this?" Voldemort asked.

"Palpie, no!" the woman screamed.

Voldemort looked at her calmly. "Why don't you shut the hell up?" Voldemort said as he drew his hand through the air again. The woman tightened her lips.

"I'll bet you wish you could do that, Ovie," Voldemort said to the man, wagging the quill like a hectoring nun.

"Friend-" said the man, and Voldemort drew his hand once more. The man stopped.

The boy hid behind the wall. "Oh, no, don't run." said the Dark Lord. "I want you to see this, boy. I am going to kill both your parents, but I will leave you alive. In gratitude for these generous gifts." He gestured to the colorful pink, lime, and purple robe and the bright yellow and orange quill.

Ovie and his wife stirred at the words. Voldemort stood as straight as he could, raised the quill and yelled "Avada Kedavra!" the curse filled the room, and the both of them immediately froze and dropped to the floor.

The boy's face contorted into a silent scream, and then he began to bawl loudly.

"Yes, yes, let it out boy," Voldemort cooed, patting the boy on the head. "You'll remember this for the rest of your life."

Something moved outside the house. Voldemort looked through the broken doorway. A light had turned on in another house across the way.

"This is fun, isn't it?" said the Dark Lord to the boy. "But I have to be on my way. There's an awful lot to do. A lot of awful to do."

He stepped out through the doorway, and disappeared into the darkness, leaving the screeching child.

The boy's wailing was like music to him. For the past few years on Earth, he had missed the din of people screaming in pain. It was nice to hear people cry again. He looked up at the sky, and noticed the stars for the first time. There were so many of them. Soon enough, they would all belong to him.

He looked at the colorful quill in his hands. It worked well enough. It was a little weak, but quick. He liked that. Voldemort walked on, thinking that this was what life was all about. He was exploring an ancient frontier, with little more than a dream and a great deal of dark magic on his side.

When daylight came, Voldemort had walked for many miles. He had entered a new realm that was much more populous. Far away he could see a major city. It wasn't urban, somehow, but he could tell it was a capital or something. Huge reddish walls rose from a great lake, and waterfalls flowed from everywhere, seemingly with no beginning or end, like an M.C. Escher drawing.

There was magic here, but not the kind Voldemort liked. The landscape was covered with colorful trees and grasses. He passed grand lakes of deep blue, and meadows dotted with brilliant flowers and those huge bovine beasts that waddled and chewed their way through them. Birds and butterflies buzzed about him as he walked, and he occasionally swatted at them or blasted them to bits with a curse.

The Dark Lord finally entered the city in broad daylight. At first, he wondered if he would attract attention dressed the way he was, barefoot, with a pink flowery silken robe and brightly-colored quill. But most of the people walking around wore even more outrageous garb. They barely noticed him. The city was filled with gleaming, columned buildings and temples. Sleek spaceships flew overhead, in bright red, yellow, and silver. Voldemort had never seen so many rich colors in one place, and it made his blood boil.

He ascended a grand stairway, with the intention of entering a government building and taking a starship. From the movies, Voldemort knew exactly where he was; he was on Naboo. The plan had worked, at least partially. When he had arrived was still an open question. He did not know if the death-eaters knew what they were doing when they conjured the time-travel apparatus from the Terminator flicks.

As he got to the top of the stairway, black curtains suddenly unfurled from the top of each entrance between the columns. Matching black banners dropped from the poles around the central square he had walked through. A horn blew somewhere in the distance, and everyone around him suddenly dropped to their knees and bent with their faces to the ground.

"What's going on?" Voldemort demanded. A man near him was crouched over, and seemed like he was crying.

"The senator has been found dead. Last night," said the man between sobs.

"What senator?" Voldemort hissed.

"Senator Ovaltine, and his wife, killed in their house. Their son witnessed the whole thing. Tragic."

"Yes. Tragic."

Voldemort looked around. He could hear a chorus of quiet sobbing from all around the city. It wasn't like the pleasing anguished cries of the Earthlings. This was purely sympathetic and poignant. Voldemort didn't like it at all.

"What is the son's name?" he asked.

"Palpatine. Just a young boy. He will be senator now."

Voldemort silently shook his head. He had his answer. He had arrived early by maybe 50 years, and the empire didn't exist yet. The plan had changed. He reached up and tore down one of the massive black banners. He was going to need it.


	3. Coffee Grounds

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 3**

**Coffee Grounds**

Darth Vader was having a terrible day. It started early, when that stupid breathing apparatus the workers installed in his sleeping enclosure cut him on the forehead. He knew it would. His dreams had been getting more violent since coming here, and he knew the suspension arm would be a problem. The foreman said it was to specification.

Vader almost choked the asshole. Damn the specification, he thought. He had told the designers time and time again he needed something that did not inhibit his movement. That mask was too difficult to sleep in. Nobody understood.

After that, Vader had to put out fires with the building crews all morning. The wrong bolts were used to install wings to a small-load freighter, and a crate of the wrong bore cannon barrels was shipped to the tie-fighter line.

At least the workers were catching most of this stuff themselves. Some idiot had modified the fuel canisters on Vader's personal craft by using the wrong grade of transmission line. Vader noticed it just before the fool started up the vehicle and almost destroyed the entire hangar as well as everyone inside. Vader did choke that guy.

Then there was the paperwork. Every one of the problems first had to be reported to the Grand Moff and then the issues had to be resolved with the vendors. This meant Vader had to go down to the administration office and deal with that infernal fax machine. It failed on the first four tries to connect, and on the fifth try, a paper jam mangled the supply orders, and Vader had to fill out new ones.

He also had to report the choking and explain himself. The Grand Moff instituted this rule within a few days of Vader's joining the oversight committee, and since then, he had worked on his restraint.

While printing his report, the printer ran out of toner, and Vader had to find someone to replace it. THAT was something he vowed never to do.

Someday, Vader knew, he would be back in the print room with his light saber, and then by golly he'd have some fun.

It was almost 11AM before Vader even got to the kitchen to get his coffee. He placed his cup in the slot for Dark Roast, and a trickle of yellowish water leaked out. Vader screamed, crushing the cup. He slammed through the drawers where the replacement bags were kept. They were empty.

Vader was NOT about to drink that decaffeinated pond water the rest of the committee members liked, nor would he be caught dead tea-bagging a packet of Chamomile.

The kitchen was out of coffee. Again. The supply firm that serviced the coffee machine obviously had the Empire over a barrel. What a great racket, Vader thought.

This had to be escalated. The Emperor was on his way back from a trip, and he would not be happy about this.

Next, Vader's voice mail beeped inside his helmet. Why, he wondered, did it never ring until after someone had called? He walked around the building until he got a stronger signal. It turned out that somebody had failed to tie up a load of hydraulic pistons securely, and Vader was needed down in the assembly warehouse to help lift the debris.

Vader wished he had never showed off his skill at lifting heavy objects using the force. He had become the de facto forklift for the entire facility.

"Does Darth Vader have to choke a bitch?" Vader yelled, walking into the warehouse. The guys were already lifting the piston rods onto another pallet, and Vader shooed them away and lifted the pile into neat rows on the shelf where they belonged. The workers had learned a long time before never to clap when Vader did this.

"Which of you is the moron?" Vader bellowed to the group. One man stepped forward, but he did not have to. Vader had already read all of their minds. Weak fools.

Vader held up a heavy hand, index finger extended, and issued a stern warning to the worker. "If I was not already up to my nips in paperwork, you'd be dragged through the streets by your Johnson. Then I'd pull out your fingernails one by one, bleed you with a thousand razors, crush your skull until your eyes popped out, tear off your limbs, and finally-"

"Ahem," said a voice behind Vader. He turned around.

All the men suddenly dropped to the floor, faces to the ground. The Emperor stood in the entrance to the room, looking at Vader with an almost pleasant smile. Vader dropped to his knees, face down.

"Master," he said. "You've returned."

"You forgot about inserting needles into his eyeballs, severing his toes, and peeling the skin from his fingers up to his shoulders," clucked the Emperor.

"Apologies, Master," Vader said without looking up.

"But you're getting better," the Emperor said. "You're still more forgiving than I am." He then knelt before the worker, who cowered ever tighter, shaking on the floor.

"You'll get away with your life just this once," the Emperor whispered, as the man felt his nuts shrivel to the size of peas. From that moment, he would never father children.

The Emperor straightened himself up and yelled, "Everyone, back to work!"

Immediately, the workers went back to their business.

"Vader, come with me," he said.

"Yes, Master." Darth Vader stood, and followed the Emperor through the door.

"Do you know what today is?" The Emperor asked Vader.

"No, my Master," Vader answered.

"I was hoping you would. You have come a long way in your first year, haven't you?"

Vader understood what the Emperor was getting at. "Master, that is not until Thursday, is it not?"

Noticing the disappointed expression on the Emperor's face, Vader suddenly realized he had said the wrong thing. The anniversary he thought of was the day he learned that his pregnant wife Padme was dead. The day he took this new form as a half-human, half-machine. The Emperor meant the day he received his name, Darth Vader, one year before.

"Master, I am eternally grateful for my name," he said.

"Yes, I know," said the Emperor. "It is my greatest gift to you, to anyone who will be my apprentice, your name."

"Apologies, Master."

"I could have given you any name. Darth Villian, Darth Tagonist, Darth Bad Guy, but I chose your name because I wanted it to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, not have them rolling on the floor laughing at you."

"Yes, Master,"

"I mean, I wasn't even up to V. I skipped a letter to give you your name."

"Yes, Master," Vader said, trying not to betray his annoyance.

"Are you unhappy with your name?"

"No, Master."

"Good. Know that as a Dark Lord of the Sith, your reputation will always precede you. It is among your greatest weapons."

"Thank you, Master."

They entered the Emperor's chamber. Even in this remote starship assembly outpost, the chamber was massive. Vader had not seen it until now, but like the few Emperor's chambers he had seen, it was sparsely decorated. He started to wonder if the Emperor simply liked it that way, or had just lost his sense of Feng Shui. As senator from Naboo, he knew the Emperor enjoyed wearing colorful robes and dressing his office with bright tapestries and exotic items.

"I want to show you something," said the Emperor. He opened a cabinet that was full of interesting items. Vader saw mugs, brochures and trinkets from faraway planets such as Tatooine and Alderaan. The Emperor had become quite a traveler while ruling the nascent Empire. He said it was his duty as a leader to survey his realm, but Vader knew these locales were powerless or strategically unimportant. The Emperor was vacationing.

The Emperor pulled a shard of gold-plated metal from a drawer. It was partially round and badly tarnished, but Vader recognized its hue. Unseen behind the mask, his jaw dropped. The shard was part of his golden droid, maybe a finger.

"Where did you find this? Uh, my Master?"

The Emperor suddenly paused, holding his hand up. He had done this a lot, and it supposedly meant the force had just spoken to him. Vader suspected that it was just a way of keeping an incontinence problem under wraps.

"Something needs my immediate attention," the Emperor said to Vader, and he hastily left the room.

This was the first time this had happened while Vader was in the Emperor's inner sanctum. Maybe this was a test of his loyalty. Vader looked down at the still-open drawer. Surely if he simply looked, and did not rummage through the items, the Emperor would never know.

He saw a few more travel items such as bumper stickers, keychains, and brown fuzzy dice from a place called Endor. There were several broken watches and cell phones. Little smooth wooden sticks. The guy was a friggin' pack rat.

Vader also noticed photographs taken at a theme park somewhere. Many were of a young boy eating a bright pink substance and posing with various giant furry cartoon characters. There was also a freakish-looking man in a black cloak. He had pure white skin and flattened snakelike nostrils. His eerie smile made Vader's skin crawl. The image of him with his arm around the boy seemed extremely creepy.

The boy looked very familiar. Could it be?

The door burst open, and the Emperor marched in, followed by a couple of Generals. He headed directly for his desk. Vader straightened up and acted as if he had stood frozen in this spot the whole time. The Emperor waved his hand, and the drawer and cabinet doors slammed shut.

"I have to leave. Sorry, Vader. Something has come up." The Emperor grabbed his travel cloak, which had been draped over his chair, and spun around as he put it on. He walked back to the door, and gestured to Vader to leave.

They stepped into the corridor, and the doors swept shut behind them. "I know about the coffee," said the Emperor. "Please see to it." And then he and the Generals were off.


	4. Puppets

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 4**

**Puppets**

Naboo is a funny place to hold a funeral. Voldemort knew that these events were supposed to be dampened by mist and underscored by the plaintive strains of bagpipes. The rain was supposed to meld with tears, turning the ground into a sodden black muck that sucked at everyone's Sunday shoes.

But not on Naboo. The fairy-tale planet refused to mute its colors despite the sadness. The mourners wore their usual technicolor garb, which seemed far gaudier given the circumstances. There was rain, but the rich blue of the raindrops only accentuated the deep green of the cemetery grass and the massive tree above. Even the headstones performed a vibrant symphony of marble and granite.

Voldemort was the only one wearing black. He had fashioned a new cloak out of the banner he removed from the grand court. He was still carrying the colorful quill.

As Senator Ovaltine and his wife's caskets were lowered into the ground, nobody cried. Instead, the throng cheered and threw colorful berries and flowers into the graves. Naboo's sun broke through the pure white clouds and cast the airborne offerings in silhouette against a brilliant rainbow.

It was, by far, the most unsatisfying funeral Voldemort had ever been to.

Funerals are supposed to suck, Voldemort thought. He never failed to enjoy them, even after causing so many. But these people could make him lose his taste for a good burial. Maybe if he put them through a few more, they'd learn better. As it was, these people made him want to toss breakfast.

Voldemort had planned his mission. He had made sure to stay away from the new Senator, which wasn't hard. The kid was always being ferried around within a cloud of staffers. Voldemort had already introduced himself to them, pretending to be a political consultant. On Earth, he had always wanted to try it. The job seemed to be a good match for his personality.

The way Naboo's politics worked, the boy could serve the last year of his father's term, and then would have to run on his own, for a maximum of two terms. Voldemort planned to teach him dark magic, and make him so effective in his one year that the people would remember him decades from now.

All Voldemort had to do was get the boy under the Imperius curse, and he could get started with his training. Soon, he would have his chance, when the staff would leave the boy to mourn his parents alone. Voldemort had gleaned this by listening intently to the thoughts of several staff members.

Finally, the ceremony broke, and the crowd lined up to hug the boy. Voldemort shuffled away quietly to find a place where he could keep an eye on young Palpatine.

"Pity we haven't found the killer," said a voice.

Voldemort turned around to face an opulently-dressed young woman whose hair was done up like a plate of nachos. He recognized her immediately as the Queen. He had never met such friendly people. He was used to muggles running and screaming, not trying to chat him up.

"Yes. Pity," replied Voldemort.

"But wasn't it a splendid funeral?"

"No, they should have been buried alive in a box full of tarantulas," Voldemort said, sweeping a hand through the air.

"Yes, that would have been perfect," said the Queen, walking away with her confused handlers in tow.

Voldemort found the Jedi mind trick a very useful tool, though it wasn't as thoroughly manipulative as the Imperius curse. He was astounded by how rare magic actually was on Naboo. Nobody else seemed to have it, though his own powers were increased. If all he wanted was to take over the planet, he could probably accomplish it within days, without bloodshed.

But where was the fun in that?

The boy Senator obviously had to have powers if he was going to become the bolt-throwing fiend Voldemort knew he would be. At this point, he had to determine exactly how powerful the brat was.

Finally, the last of the crowd got into their little hovercars, while the staffers retreated into the nearby chapel. Voldemort saw his chance. He apparated into the huge tree and swung upside down just above the boy.

"Hello again," Voldemort said.

Palpatine opened his mouth to scream, and Voldemort put a finger to his lips and passed his hand through the air. The boy fell silent, but tears began to stream down his cheeks.

"You remember!" said Voldemort with a broad grin. He looked down at the grave, with the two caskets side by side, floating in a sea of flowers and berries.

"Do you miss your family?" Voldemort asked. The boy nodded tearfully. "Of course you do. Want them back?"

Palpatine's eyes widened as Voldemort pulled out his quill and aimed it at the caskets. They opened. The two bodies rose and started to dance a foxtrot in midair like ghoulish marionettes. Palpatine stared in disbelief, looking like he was about to run, but he could not. Voldemort's mind trick kept him silently rooted to the ground with tears flooding his eyes.

Voldemort grinned at the boy's silent hysterics. He brought the bodies closer and opened their eyes.

Suddenly, Palpatine screamed. Voldemort nearly fell out of the tree in shock. The boy had broken through his mind trick. This was unnerving and gratifying at the same time.

Voldemort looked toward the chapel to see the doors opening. He had only seconds to raise his quill and cast his curse. Then he disappeared.

The staffers came running from the chapel. They approached Palpatine and saw his two parents lying on the ground next to him.

"What happened here?" they asked him. "Are you okay?" The question was multi-leveled. The staffers expected the Senator to be upset, but this behavior appeared insane.

"I'm sorry," Palpatine cried loudly.

"Oh, Palpie, what did you do?"

The boy Senator stood there bawling, when Voldemort came running from behind a nearby tomb. "Please, please don't be angry with him," he said. "Clearly he's distraught."

The staff members glared at him. "You should not be-"

"I've seen this before," Voldemort said. "Separation anxiety. Misses his parents so much. You understand."

"What do you know of it? You're just a consultant-"

"Yes, yes. Politicians. Seven-year-old boys. Same thing," Voldemort said as he patted the boy on the shoulder. "He needs guidance to navigate this crisis."

"From you?" demanded the chief of staff angrily.

Voldemort ignored him and turned toward Palpatine. "Senator, allow me to be chief advisor," he said. "I will help you deal with your new responsibilities."

Palpatine looked up at Voldemort and nodded, barely perceptibly. The staffers were aghast.

"What? Senator?" one staffer yelled.

"You can't be serious!" yelled another.

"You heard him," said Voldemort, then he turned to Palpatine. "Senator, we must begin to work on your agenda."

"What? He needs to mourn-" said the chief of staff.

Voldemort cut him off with his hand, chuckling. "I'm sorry, did you hear the Senator? Who do you work for now?"

The staffer stared at him angrily.

"I said, who do you work for now?" Voldemort yelled, pointing a slender white finger at the man's head.

The staffer answered grudgingly, "You, sir." Back on Earth, he would have been trembling before the Dark Lord.

"Good," Voldemort said, barely able to contain himself. Normally, he would have zapped the staffer out of existence. He backed away and they all stood there looking at each other.

Now that he was boss, Voldemort took stock of his crew. There was the chief of staff, who was clearly an idiot. He would be annoying, but not a threat. There was a technology staffer who was probably a genius, but could be easily manipulated if one pretended to be his friend. The fundraising guy was a complete phony, nothing more than a smile and an ego. Voldemort actually liked him. His only problem would be the woman, a communications consultant. She was fairly smart and meddlesome, and Voldemort figured it wouldn't be long before he had to turn her into a rodent.

"Well, then. The Senator and I have a lot of work to do," Voldemort said. Then he gestured to the two bodies lying at his feet. "The rest of you, clean up this mess."

Voldemort led Palpatine away between the gravestones. The staffers watched them go and then started to return the dead parents to their caskets. They were unsure what really happened, but they could not believe they would now be working for this skinny, white, snakelike stranger.

As soon as Voldemort and Palpatine were out of sight, they disapparated. Voldemort figured his enhanced power could cover the great distance required. The boy's training in the ways of politics and dark magic could now begin.

Voldemort and the boy appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a beautiful, lush village. Children ran around with giant lollipops and balloons. A miniature train ran through the middle of the street, loaded with laughing kids and smiling parents. Giant furry cartoon characters bounced around with their disturbing perma-grins, hugging the boys and girls who gathered around them.

Nearby, families gorged themselves in front of a restaurant called the Cantina. A familiar tune emanated from within the building.

Voldemort chuckled. He knew where he had taken the young Senator to begin his magical training, but did not expect it to look like this. He could still train the boy here, but would need a different approach. Palpatine wore a look of scared surprise, as if he wanted to say something. Voldemort suddenly remembered he had put the boy under the Imperius curse.

"Go ahead, Senator. Speak," Voldemort said.

"Where are we?" asked Palpatine.

Voldemort was just about to answer, when a woman dressed as a puppet in a ball gown skipped toward them, laughing. She crouched to meet Palpatine at eye level and handed the boy a stick of pink cotton candy. As she embraced him, another cartoon character snapped a photo of the three.

"Welcome to Mos Eisley," said the clown-faced woman. "You will never find a more perfect paradise of joy and tranquility!"

"Well," Voldemort answered. "We can fix that."


	5. An Old Song

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 5**

**An Old Song**

Now that there was coffee again, the line for the kitchen stretched halfway down the corridor. Darth Vader had to get pretty nasty with the supplier to make it happen. He got nowhere with his angry email to the lying rep, and the sales director blew him off. He finally had to talk to the quadrant VP. It was the first time he had choked someone long distance.

It happened by accident. Vader thought about what he would do if the VP was sitting in the room with him, and he suddenly heard a choking sound through the speakerphone. Before he figured out what was going on, the line, and the VP, went dead.

When three pallets of coffee arrived the next day, Vader didn't feel so bad. The mug full of dark roast sitting on his desk was testimony to the importance of being a dedicated customer.

With the Emperor gone and the Grand Moff at a conference, Vader was the only one in charge. He decided he was going to find out why his Master was taking so many vacations. He headed down to Administration, where his contact Corinda might be able to dig up a classified itinerary or two. Vader imagined all the items he would find. Golf, massage, tequila, deep sea fishing, more tequila. He wondered what porn flicks the Emperor would order in the hotel.

Vader was getting better at keeping Palpatine from reading his mind. Just a few months before, he would never even dream of looking into the boss's travel plans. As he opened the door to the Administration office, Corinda looked up and smiled broadly. She was an attractive young woman with fair skin, deep red hair, and four arms.

"Whaddaya need, big guy?" she asked. A visit from Vader was obviously the highlight of her day.

"Hello, Corrie, I need to see the Emperor's agenda,"

"Anything for you, my… Lord," Corinda said in a breathless, sultry voice that made Vader raise his eyebrows.

"Nobody can know of this," Vader warned her.

"Honey, it'll be our little secret," she whispered as she twirled over to the file cabinet and rifled through the drawer.

"Oh! That's right, these are in the classified files," she said scandalously, looking over her shoulder at Darth Vader. Then she bent over, reaching for the bottom drawer.

Vader looked away and took note of the walls, which were the faded blue color of a robin's egg. His heart still ached for his dead wife, and using Corinda for a few bits of info felt like it somehow violated Padme's trust. It seemed wrong.

On the other hand, he was Darth Fucking Vader. His conscience was a huge problem if he was going to be the right-hand man to Emperor Palpatine. He tried mightily to suppress it using meditation, but there was no relief. He was sure the Emperor could sense this, and it was holding him back.

Corinda handed over the itinerary, making sure to feel Vader's synthetic hand. He read it, memorizing every detail.

"Thank you, Corinda," Vader said, handing it back to her. "This never happened. I was never here."

"Our secret, baby," Corinda said with a grin as she took the document. Vader turned and left, and she practically skipped back to her desk, giggling.

Darth Vader walked the halls quickly, thinking of the itinerary. What did the Emperor need on Tatooine? This was the third time he had gone there in as many months. The desert planet was no place for a relaxing respite. People did come from nearby systems for the Krayt Dragon hunt, but the season was now over. This time of year, the planet was closest to its two suns, and at its hottest.

The Emperor had met with Jawas, an irrelevant species that scraped out a meager existence as scavengers. There was no need for the leader of the Galactic Empire to do business with them, unless he was looking for something. Maybe they had found it, whatever it was. Vader decided to do some hands-on investigation. He quickly packed a bag and headed for his galactic transport.

The men scattered as Vader entered the hangar. "Ready my ship," he demanded. The attendants scrambled to fuel up and charge Vader's fighter prototype, painted black to meet his requirements. He had demanded a great deal from the engineers on this one. It had two laser cannons on the end of each wing, and the wings could separate in combat, providing stability and "greater fire radius" according to the engineers. This meant it could incinerate an awesome number of people for such a small ship. It was only about 13 meters long.

Most importantly, it had just been fitted with a Hyperdrive, which made the thing infinitely more useful.

There was only one problem. If Vader left, nobody would be in charge of the facility. Six more prototypes were due before the Emperor returned, and Vader was sure that none of the dolts at the facility were competent enough to handle it. He needed a scapegoat.

Vader handed his bag to one of the attendants, and it promptly opened, spilling Vader's personal gear all over the deck. There were batteries for his breathing system, a spare light saber, a resealable bag full of cheese puffs, fungicide cream, and several pairs of brightly colored Speedos. Everybody looked and immediately turned away. The man who dropped the bag's contents kneeled and stared at the floor.

Darth Vader grabbed the light saber at his hilt and powered it up. Its brilliant red beam lit the room, and its hum was familiar to most of the men in the building. He was just about to run the man through when he realized he had probably left the bag open himself. He had nearly forgotten his batteries and threw them in at the last minute. He powered down his weapon and beckoned the man to stand.

"You will certainly die, but not today," Vader said to the attendant. "In my absence, I choose you to oversee the assembly of the prototypes."

The man nodded, his eyes full of fear.

"Fail me in this task, which I presume you will, and I will destroy you then."

"Yes, my Lord," the attendant said, standing straighter now. He had accepted his task, though it was a likely death sentence. There was almost no possibility he would succeed.

Darth Vader knelt to put his belongings away himself, and then loaded the bag onto the ship. Within a minute, he was blasting out of the planet's atmosphere toward Tatooine. He put on the autopilot and set the sound system to provide nonstop polka music.

After nearly a day's travel, Vader arrived at Tatooine. He flew low over the planet's desolate surface and looked down at his old stomping grounds. He saw the junkyard he worked in as a slave, the neighborhood he lived in, and the town where men from the village used to go to gamble.

The town had a story to it. It was built around some old starship wreckage, but before that it had been a kind of resort, full of lush trees and amusements. People came from many systems away to enjoy the gardens and luxurious baths that left people with clearer skins and rejuvenated libidos.

There was more to it than that, of course. Tatooine had no surface water because of the heat of its two suns. But as local lore told it, the earliest colonists found a spring from a vast aquifer, and built the resort around it. They hoped to find more springs like it, but never did. The novelty of the single oasis was enough to draw visitors. It was like getting a photo of the last Koritian Elk or licking the last bright blue Dorian Frog.

The death of the town came quickly when the ship crashed. The geyser that erupted afterward exhausted the aquifer, cutting off the last economic resource Tatooine had. By the time Vader was a boy, the place had already joined the rest of the planet as a warning to the rest of the galaxy.

Mos Eisley. It meant "Place of final waters." There wasn't a drier location on the entire planet. Whatever the Emperor had found, he would have to operate through the crime industry. Someone here would know how to track him.

Vader landed and entered the town. The place looked much like the hovel he remembered. People looked up at him, and then quickly looked down, realizing who he was. They parted in the streets to let him through.

He walked past the Cantina, and heard that familiar song, the only song ever played there. "Tatoo, Tatoo, Tatooine. How I love to come and hit the scene." Vader chuckled. The words were a remnant of a bygone era, and could not have sounded more out of place in this smoking shell of a town.

"Run!" yelled a voice from around a corner. Several men came running, followed by Storm Troopers. It became apparent that they were not running from the Troopers, but all of them were running from something together.

Vader heard a loud crash, and a cloud of dust and debris rose from beyond a building. He then heard the familiar buzzing sound of the Emperor's electric attack. There was another explosion, and black smoke began to burst into the sky. All around Vader, people scrambled into buildings and shut up the doors and windows as best they could. Through the din, he could still hear the idiotic song from the Cantina.

Suddenly, through the rising dust, Darth Vader saw the Emperor moving backwards, still shooting bolts of electricity at something, or somebody. He had never seen the Emperor so furious, nor putting so much effort into his attacks.

Then Vader saw another figure emerge from the smoke. It was the creature from the photographs, a tall, thin, stark white being in a black cloak. He was waving a stick at the Emperor, and causing massive damage to buildings nearby.

The creature waved the stick and threw the Emperor's bolts back toward him. Palpatine deflected the bolts by throwing barrels and carts into their way. The white being blasted them to bits with his own attacks, creating balls of fire far larger than the materials they were made of should allow.

Vader had never seen anything like it. Who dared to take on the Emperor? Nobody left in the galaxy could have the power, or even the balls. There was no way the good side of the Force could meet the Emperor's skills like this.

"Master!"

The Emperor looked his way, only for an instant.

"Vader! What are you-" The Emperor screamed, deflecting a ball of flame from the white being. He threw it at a building and the explosion cratered the wall. The white being stood firm. "Never mind! I- Need- Your- Help!"

Vader powered his light saber and ran toward the battle.


	6. The Eighth Horcrux

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 6**

**The Eighth Horcrux**

The young Palpatine walked along the midway and chewed on the pink sugary substance. Voldemort knew what it was; Cotton candy. The stuff was invented by carnival promoters in order to get kids running and bouncing around and demanding to go on every expensive ride, only to work their stomachs into knots and puke it all up in the back of their parents' cars on the ride home.

Voldemort could think of no greater evil than the craft of marketing. Despite the damage he could do, his magic paled in scope when compared with the destruction wrought by corporate shills. Here they were wreaking havoc on children of this galaxy, whose unsuspecting parents brought them to Mos Eisley for the rides and wound up shelling out Galactic Credits for everything from stuffed Ewoks to tradable Jedi cards.

"Say Bantha cheese!" a voice yelled from behind Voldemort. He turned and a woman flashed a camera in his face while a goofy stuffed creature held up two furry fingers behind his head.

This place had to be destroyed.

Voldemort took the photo from the woman and put it with the others in his cloak. This was not why he had brought the boy here. He wanted to see how powerful Palpatine actually was. The kid needed a bathroom, and as Voldemort waited outside, he saw his chance. He cast the Imperius curse on the two cartoon creatures. One was dressed as a large six-legged dog, and the other was a lady dressed as a fairy with sequined wings, carrying a camera and a sparkling… wand.

The wand would be an upgrade from the quill Voldemort was carrying. He was just about to demand it from her when Palpatine came back outside. The wand could wait.

Voldemort hid behind a column nearby, and Palpatine looked around, wondering what was going on. The fairy-lady came over and tapped him on the head with her wand.

"Hello? And who are you?" she asked.

Palpatine looked at her and hesitated.

She whacked him over the head with the wand again, much harder. "I said who are you?" she demanded harshly.

"I am, I am, uh, Palpatine," the boy responded. The six-legged dog came over.

"That's a funny name," he said in a loud bellowing voice. "Are you some kind of medicine or something?"

Voldemort stayed hidden behind the column, content to watch the magic unfold.

"No," said the boy. "I'm from Naboo."

"Naboo?" the fairy said. "You're not from Naboo. The people there all have big floppy ears, like this." She aimed her wand at him and two long pink ears emerged from the top of his head. Palpatine looked up and yelled.

Some of the tourists walking by stopped to watch the scene. Voldemort chuckled. It was his magic, of course, but the woman was doing a fine job playing the part.

"Aren't those funny-looking ears?" asked the fairy. The big six-legged dog laughed, and so did the tourists.

"Don't forget their bright bushy tails," he said.

"That's right!" said the fairy. She whacked Palpatine on the butt and a huge pink squirrel tail grew there. He turned around, yelling as tears started to stream down his cheeks.

"Look! He's chasing his tail!" hollered the big dog. He mimicked the boy by spinning around in circles.

"Look at him cry!" yelled the fairy-lady. The gathering crowd laughed as their children pointed at the freak. Palpatine dropped his cotton candy and glared at them. Voldemort waited for the boy to respond, but something was wrong.

The boy did nothing but stand there crying. Voldemort suddenly realized what the problem was. He took out his quill and quietly released Palpatine from the Imperius curse.

"Why don't you fight back?" demanded the fairy. She walked around Palpatine, and whacked him a few times with the wand. Some of the children started to throw candy at him.

"Pull his tail!" bellowed the big dog. "I know I hate it."

The fairy held the boy's tail out for the children in the crowd. They took it and pulled, and Palpatine yelped and fell to the ground. He stood up again with a look of rage. Watching from behind the column, Voldemort curled his lips into a grin.

Palpatine spun around as the children tried to yank his tail. One of them grabbed it and started pulling him around.

"Stop it!" Palpatine yelled.

"Oh, look, he's getting angry!" said the dog.

"Ha ha! I'll bet he's going to hurt us," answered the fairy. "Are you going to hurt us? Are you, boy?"

Palpatine waved his hand and sparks flew out, hitting her in the face. She screamed and fell backwards, while the crowd immediately fell silent. Voldemort arched an eyebrow.

"What was that? How dare you!" screamed the woman, trying to stand up.

The big dog ran toward Palpatine. "Why don't you try that with me?" he demanded.

Palpatine held out both of his hands this time, and the sparks flew again, this time at the big dog. He fell on his back and howled loudly. The children in the crowd screamed as everyone started to run.

The woman got up and began to charge Palpatine. He raised a hand and a nearby light pole tore itself from the ground and fell on her, crushing her legs. He bared his teeth and directed his electricity at her until she fell unconscious.

"Call security!" The dog yelled as he got up and ran. The plaza emptied while a loud horn blew overhead. Bright red lanterns rose from the roofs of every nearby building and began to spin while the sirens blared.

Besides the boy and the downed fairy, Voldemort was the only one left in the plaza. He walked over to the fairy and took the wand from her limp hand. Within seconds, several uniformed men surrounded them and formed a circle.

"Cease and desist!" one of them yelled. Voldemort stood with the boy Palpatine, still with his bushy tail and long ears. One of the men felt the woman's neck and shook his head. The men lifted some kind of laser weapons at the two.

"You must yield," the leader said. "Put your hands on your head and kneel down. Both of you!"

Palpatine looked up at Voldemort, who simply smiled.

"I said put your hands on your head or we will fire."

Voldemort looked up and saw a starship hovering overhead. A large transport. It was about to come in handy.

"Fire," yelled the leader. The men opened fire and shot bright red laser beams toward the two. Voldemort raised the sparkling wand and deflected the beams toward nearby buildings, where they left scorch marks in the walls.

"Please," he said. The men fired again, and Voldemort lifted his wand, throwing several men backwards into the bushes. Palpatine looked on with his eyes wide open.

"Boy," Voldemort said, pointing at the ship in the sky, "Can you bring that down?" Palpatine nodded.

Some of the men charged Voldemort, and he lifted them with a wave of his hand and threw them at the building.

"Let's see," Voldemort said, walking toward the terrified men. "Who likes cotton candy?" He raised his wand and yelled "Cotton Candio!", and a cloud of the pink sugary substance appeared from nowhere and fell onto the men, who became completely entangled in it.

Palpatine raised his hands toward the starship, and released his electricity. Immediately, one of the transport's engines shorted out, and the ship started spinning.

The men in the bushes climbed out and reached for Voldemort. He threw them off with a wave and aimed his wand above their heads. "Et Cetera!" he yelled. His last spell repeated itself and another ball of cotton candy engulfed them.

Another group of men came running with their weapons drawn, and Voldemort cast the Et Ceterus curse again. The men were immersed in cotton candy, which began to crush them. Every breath filled their throats with pink sugary threads.

Palpatine tugged on Voldemort's cloak. He looked up. The transport ship overhead had gone out of control and was about to crush the entire plaza.

The men who were thrown against the wall got up and ran. Voldemort raised his wand and yelled, "E Pluribus Unum!" All of the men felt themselves pulled into one group, directly under the looming prow of the starship, just as Voldemort and Palpatine levitated out of the way.

The starship crashed into the plaza nose-first, accompanied by the sounds of crushing metal and screaming men. Voldemort and Palpatine floated several yards away, watching the ship fly apart while flames roared from the engines. Voldemort threw a curse at the ship, and then cast a protective spell over himself and the boy. Instantly, a fuel canister ruptured, spraying hot plasma all over the buildings surrounding the plaza. The explosion was immediate.

The noise was like being inside a volcano. The shock wave threw Voldemort and the boy backwards above several buildings, and they landed on a street hundreds of yards away, unscathed. People ran out of the buildings and stampeded away from the crash. Fire rained all over the city, and Voldemort saw people downed by shards of metal and balls of flaming plasma. This was the kind of mayhem he was used to.

The people running were trying to escape the disaster, as was Palpatine, but Voldemort just wanted to get to a decent vantage point to watch the city burn.

They finally got to a place where they could watch the collapse of paradise. The ship was immense. Its skeletal hulk dominated the city as the smoke engulfed everything around it. The city would never be the same, Voldemort knew.

"See that?" Voldemort said as he pointed toward the city. "That is death. I can teach you so much about it, so many ways to bring it about."

Palpatine watched the dying city with a look of horror on his face. But Voldemort also saw the seed of a cold, remorseless stare in his eyes. Despite his funny ears and tail, Voldemort was amazed by his power and callousness.

"But I can teach you the most important lesson of all; how to cheat death. I can show you immortality."

Palpatine looked at him squarely. "How?" he asked.

"Ah," Voldemort said with glee as a thick column of smoke rose behind them, blotting out the planet's two suns. "See that crashed ship there? I have turned it into a horcrux."

"What's a horcrux?" Palpatine asked.

"I will tell you all about that later," Voldemort said. "For now, just enjoy the view."


	7. Perfect Treachery

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 7**

**Perfect Treachery**

The boy Palpatine closed the communication portal and sat back to think about his plans for the day. Nearly a year had gone by since Voldemort arrived. The white-skinned being had mentored him through his year as a senator, and taught him a great deal about the dark side of the Force. He also, thankfully, removed the ears and tail given to the boy by the creatures of the devastated Mos Eisley. Still, Palpatine looked forward to the time when the chains would be broken.

"Sir, it is nearly time. Shall we?" asked Kerelik, his fundraiser, entering the room. He was the only staffer who still worked for Palpatine. His former Chief went to a faraway village to run for mayor. His technician now worked for the planetary television network, and nobody knew what happened to the communications consultant. Voldemort had replaced the staff with unpaid interns, who were more than happy to pad their resumes working for the planet's youngest Senator ever.

Palpatine was set to meet with representatives from the Trade Federation, who had come to Coruscant for a summit. They wanted to open a new trade route through the Naboo system, leading to Tatooine. Since the destruction of Mos Eisley, the planet had become the center of a speculative mining craze. The water that erupted from the crash site held trace elements of magnetic ore, and investors from all around the Republic wanted to extract the mineral.

Naturally, nobody knew that Palpatine and his Chief of Staff Voldemort had anything to do with it.

"Let's go," the Senator answered, and the two of them started off toward the meeting room.

The boy Senator was widely considered precocious and daring. He was a skilled negotiator, and many felt it was due to his youth, which disarmed his opponents. Others noticed that Voldemort was often close by whenever the senator made a decision, and some started to suspect that the cloaked consultant held greater sway with Palpatine than was normal.

Voldemort was busy directing the setup of the meeting room. He had chosen a large hall, and had outfitted it with tapestries and flags from Naboo. The senator would sit on cushions on an elevated platform, while the Trade Federation reps would sit in uncomfortable straight-backed chairs, with the seats a few inches too low. The arrangement would favor the Senator. Voldemort knew that presentation was everything.

"Sir, welcome!" Voldemort said as Palpatine and the staffer walked in. "The others will arrive soon, and you will enter from the rear door a few minutes later. Make them wait."

"Thank you, Voldemort," said the Senator. "What are our final terms?"

"The walkaway is full jurisdiction and half of the protection cost," answered Voldemort.

"Very well, less than half means no deal," said Palpatine. Naboo wanted full control of the route, but the Trade Federation was unwilling to pay any royalty for it.

"Sir, they are on their way," said the intern by the door.

"Splendid. Places, everyone!" said Voldemort, clapping his hands together. They took positions standing around the hall. Voldemort opened the rear door for the Senator.

The interns opened the main doors for the representatives from the Trade Federation. They were Neimoidians, the dominant species in the organization. Voldemort surged forward to welcome them.

"Greetings, gentlemen!" he announced, bowing.

"Thank you," said the Neimoidians in their thick accent. Voldemort had heard it before, in impressions of Asian people from his home planet and in the Star Wars films. Even he thought it sounded racist.

"We are very grateful for this audience," said the leader as they bowed slightly. "And you please us with your red carpet treatment." They referred to the opulent decorations and the actual red carpet on the floor, thinking it was meant to make them feel like honored guests, though of course it wasn't.

Voldemort led the three to their seats. "The Senator will be here presently. Please make yourselves comfortable," he said, gesturing to the stoic chairs. They sat and fidgeted while Voldemort poured them some coffee. He had read that it gave Neimoidians indigestion, though they sold a lot of it.

After graciously taking the coffee from an insistent Voldemort, they all waited a few more minutes for Senator Palpatine. When he finally entered, the Neimoidians stood and bowed. There was nowhere to put their still-full coffee cups.

"Welcome, Sirs," said the Senator. "I trust you have been treated well." He bowed slightly.

"Thank you, Senator. Your host has been most gracious," the leader answered. Voldemort nodded silently from his position next to the Senator's platform.

"You are Nute Ginrych, is that right?" asked Palpatine.

"Correct, Sir, and this is Taum Deelai and Paat Byookanon," the leader answered, gesturing to his colleagues.

Palpatine sat down, followed by the Neimoidians.

"You are going to profit well from this new trade route, I suspect," Palpatine said.

"Well, Senator, it will be very costly to maintain, of course," answered Ginrych. "New routes always carry risk."

"Then why open the route at all?" asked the Senator.

"The long-term benefits could be very great for both of our interests," said the Neimoidian.

"I see. Yet you would like us to protect the route at no cost to your organization," said Palpatine.

"We have no means for protection, Sir," said Ginrych. Of course, he was lying. The Trade Federation had been secretly arming its ships for years. Voldemort knew this, though he did not realize that Palpatine did as well.

"But you do have the means," said the Senator. "The profit you earn around the galaxy helps you pay a significant royalty in some cases, such as in the Kessel system."

"That is a very dangerous sector," said Ginrych. "Your system is very peaceful. It's without comparison, Sir."

Voldemort grinned. The Neimoidian had offered a solid argument and a complement in one statement, but he had also left an opening. He leaned in and whispered in Palpatine's ear.

"Then you won't object to paying one hundred percent of protection costs," the Senator offered.

The three Neimoidians stirred. "One hundred percent?" the leader said. "This is outrageous. We do not yet know the viability of the ore on Tatooine. How can we absorb this cost?"

"I have seen Tatooine," answered Palpatine. "I am concerned about the type of people the route will attract."

"We traders are honest businessmen," said Ginrych.

"Pirates are not," said the Senator.

"Very well, we will pay half of the costs."

"One hundred percent," said the Senator. Voldemort smiled. He had trained the boy well.

"We cannot go above this if you have jurisdiction."

"Our control of the route through our system is not on the table," said Palpatine.

"We realize that," said Ginrych. "But perhaps we can make one additional request."

Voldemort and Palpatine both raised an eyebrow. Introducing new terms during this kind of meeting was unseemly, but it was often a fruitful tactic.

"We wish to have a seat in the Galactic Senate," said the Neimoidian. This was highly irregular, since he represented a private company, not a planet. The very idea was foolish.

Voldemort leaned toward Palpatine again. "You should consider this idea," he whispered.

"What? It's insane," Palpatine hissed.

"They would be forever indebted to you, which may be useful to you in the future," Voldemort whispered into the senator's ear. The eight-year-old senator gritted his teeth. This seemed like a terrible idea to him, but his white-skinned political advisor had never been wrong. Not yet.

"Perhaps I can offer this in a motion to the Senate," Palpatine said to the Neimoidians. "But that is all. Such a bill would be worth the full cost of protection, would it not?"

The Trade Federation representatives consulted quietly with each other. "We agree to your terms," Ginrych said.

The group stood up and exchanged small talk, and then the Neimoidians left. Voldemort stood with Palpatine.

"Sir, that was an excellent outcome. Your negotiating skills have become legend," Voldemort said to the Senator.

"I suspect your intimidation tactics helped," Palpatine answered. "A strange arrangement, a private company holding a Senate seat. Do you think the Queen will approve of this?"

"Why don't we return to Naboo to meet with her?" Voldemort asked. "I could arrange a meeting very quickly."

Palpatine smiled. "A tremendous idea. Please return immediately and work your magic," he said, gesturing at the décor around the room. "I will meet you there in a few days."

Voldemort agreed and left the room. He could apparate around the galaxy, but Palpatine had insisted he use a ship, to avoid anybody catching on that his Chief of Staff was a powerful wizard. He arranged for a ship from the Senator's fleet and left within an hour.

As Voldemort and two interns left Coruscant's atmosphere and prepared to engage the Hyperdrive, a small unidentified fighter craft approached. Voldemort tried to read the thoughts of its pilot, but got nothing. Spells were difficult to use in outer space because of the huge distances involved.

Before Voldemort could respond, the fighter fired. Its laser cannons blasted the Naboo ship to smithereens.

"The task is complete, Lord," said Ginrych's voice on the intercom in Palpatine's office. The Senator, alone in the room, sat and shed a tear for the two interns with Voldemort.

"Very well," he answered through a voice enhancer. "The Senator was not on board, so he can fulfill your terms."

"Thank you, Lord," said Ginrych. Palpatine closed the portal and sat back. The Trade Federation's robotic fighter craft had worked as planned, catching Voldemort by surprise.

The year of training in the dark side had done wonders for Palpatine. He had learned about curses, charms, and horcruxes. His magic was different from Voldemort's. There were some things he could never do, such as fly or apparate, but he had learned to read the minds of others, and also to keep people, including Voldemort, from reading his. There was no way Voldemort had seen this coming.

A thorough search of the destroyed ship's particle cloud revealed no signs of life. Voldemort was dead.


	8. Released

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 8**

**Released**

Darth Vader took in every detail of the oncoming battle; every pebble on the street, the strange hissing and squealing of the enemy's attacks, the stupid music from the Cantina, and the thick smoke rising above the city. He saw the white being's black cloak, his flattened face, his thin, white feet, and his bony arms holding a thin stick. He saw all of this while running at top speed across the dusty plaza, with his cape flapping through the air behind him.

This was going to be easy, he thought. Vader hurled himself through the last dozen yards of air toward the being, his light saber wound up like a snake about to strike.

"Vader! No!" screamed the Emperor.

Vader suddenly felt a force overwhelm him, like an invisible wall as impenetrable as the side of a starship. It threw him backwards across the dirt street, and Vader felt his bones ring as he fell crumpled on the ground. The enemy had thrown up a protection charm at the last possible second, and went back to deflect the Emperor's bolts of energy.

Vader rose immediately and holstered his light saber. He reached out with his death grip as he walked toward the white being, and he saw the demon seize. The being curled his hand toward his throat and tried to scream. Vader moved in closer and tightened his fist.

Voldemort flailed his arms, trying to cast off Vader's grip. The Emperor saw his chance. He gritted his teeth tightly and released the most powerful bolt of energy he could muster.

Voldemort disappeared. The bolts of energy scorched a building just beyond where he was. Vader ran toward the Emperor, who was looking around at the rooftops nearby.

"My Master, what is-"

"Avada Kedavra!" yelled a voice from behind them. Vader swept his light saber upward and deflected Voldemort's Killing Curse. The white wizard ran toward them as Palpatine lifted his hands and fired his energy bolts again. Voldemort deflected them toward Darth Vader, who jumped to the top of a nearby building and threw his light saber at Voldemort.

Voldemort ducked out of the way as the light saber spun overhead and cut through a corner of his cape. He aimed his wand and threw flames at Vader, who held up a hand to absorb the fire. The Emperor lifted the remains of a small vehicle and threw it toward Voldemort. The wizard raised his wand again and pushed it back toward the Emperor, pinning him against a wall. "Heavio!" Voldemort yelled, casting a spell that multiplied the weight of the vehicle a hundredfold.

The light saber flew back into Vader's hand. He held it out like a wand and the same fire Voldemort had cast flew from the end of the light saber. Behind his mask, Vader's eyes widened in surprise. The wizard evaded him, flying to the top of the same building as he cast out with his wand. His other hand curled as if to grip and squeeze the life out of a small animal. Vader felt his mask suddenly start to crush inward.

Vader clutched at his helmet as his mechanical breathing became gravelly and weak. Voldemort flicked his wand and Vader's light saber sailed into his hand.

"You disappoint me, Emperor!" Voldemort yelled from atop the building. "I am barely breaking a sweat."

Vader kneeled on the roof, ready to collapse. The little ship against the wall lurched as the Emperor tried to lift it.

"This is a tragic turnabout, Palpie, my boy!" Voldemort laughed loudly. "You came here to relieve me of my life, as you did before, didn't you?"

Vader reached up to his helmet and released the two locks on his neck. Voldemort powered up the light saber and its hum brought a smile to his face. He felt its mild vibration, and he realized he had no idea what it would be like. It was a truly impressive weapon just to hold.

"I will now return the favor," Voldemort sneered as he walked toward the Sith Lord. "Your apprentice is half machine, like a half-blood. We have that in common." He lifted the light saber above his head and got ready to strike.

"Unfortunately, he'll soon be dead, while I will still be very much alive!" the Dark Lord yelled.

Vader removed his helmet, and it fell to the street below. Voldemort froze with the light saber held above him.

"Good Lord, you are far uglier than Lucas realized," he said. Vader suddenly reached up and Force-pushed Voldemort into the air. The Emperor finally lifted the small craft and threw a volley of electricity into the sky, and caught the dark wizard as he began to fall back to the ground. Vader's push held him in suspension as the Emperor's bolts seared his flesh. Voldemort screamed, dropping the light saber to the street.

"You are correct, Voldemort. I brought you back to destroy you," the Emperor yelled. "You should thank me. I could have let you rot forever as a horcrux."

Voldemort could not cast a spell and could not disapparate. It was all he could do just to hold on to his wand. The bolts of energy enveloped him as he writhed and screamed in midair. Vader had not taken a breath, but stood up and jumped to the ground. He kept Voldemort in the air above him.

"When I learned that my contacts discovered the key to bringing you back, I did not hesitate," Palpatine said, strengthening the bolts of energy. "I had to see you again. Last time, I missed my chance to watch you die."

Vader looked at the Emperor curiously. Voldemort kept screaming, unable to respond.

"I read your mind," Palpatine said. "I saw your plan long ago. I saw your memories. You were beaten by a kid every time. That's how I knew you could be beaten by an eight-year-old."

Voldemort writhed in pain, understanding what it must be like to endure the Cruciatus curse. He tried to gather his mind, hoping he could get out of this if he concentrated.

Palpatine nodded to Vader to grab his light saber. Vader understood. He was about to release Voldemort from the electricity, and Vader was to strike as soon as the pathetic snakelike being dropped to the ground.

Suddenly, Palpatine began to feel his energy sucked from his fingertips. He could not handle the draw of electricity as Voldemort pulled it in; absorbing everything he could take from the Emperor. It was unbelievably painful, but Voldemort kept attracting the bolts until the Emperor fell to his knees, unable to withstand the energy coursing through his hands.

Vader could not keep up his death grip any longer. He was out of breath, and he needed to put his helmet back on. The Emperor fell onto his face, releasing Voldemort.

The wizard immediately raised his wand toward Vader. "Crucio!" he yelled. Vader fell to his knees and hollered in pain, but Voldemort felt something wrong. The curse was not nearly powerful enough. The energy bolts had taken most of his strength. He saw the Emperor trying to pull himself up, and realized he could not go on if Palpatine challenged him again.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled, as a thin green strand emitted from the end of his wand and streamed toward Darth Vader. The curse hit Vader's mechanical chest plate and enveloped it like a green electrical overload. Vader watched the curse fizzle, and then defiantly looked up at the dark wizard. He tightened his grip on his light saber.

Voldemort lifted his wand toward Palpatine. "Stupefy!" he yelled, and the Emperor suddenly went limp on the street. Voldemort kneeled and put a hand on his shoulder, and they both disappeared.

Darth Vader picked up his helmet and put it back on, taking a deep breath that sounded like rattling tin cans. He tried to stand, but could not, and he pulled up into a kneel instead.

Vader kept his eyes trained on the buildings around him. The dust and smoke was beginning to clear, and he could see the collapsed walls and burnt machinery. It looked like a demolition crew had come through. Flames still flickered around the edges of the square. Vader realized he could again hear the music coming from the Cantina, and he frowned.

At that moment, Voldemort stood outside the city, watching the smoke rise as he had so many years before. He used a blocking spell to keep anybody from seeing him or the Emperor, who lay prone at his feet.

"When I turned that crashing ship into a horcrux, I realized it was foolish," Voldemort said to the unconscious Emperor. He gazed at the forlorn remains of the starship that dominated the city. "Nobody in this galaxy could ever release me if you were not told how to do it."

"But I told you, didn't I? Because I knew you would come for me," Voldemort said as he kicked at Palpatine's body. "And you were right. You should have let me rot."

Voldemort knew his chance was now. The Emperor had done well, exactly as he imagined. Palpatine's power was impressive, and Vader's was perhaps even greater. Just being in battle with them was exhilarating. Nothing on Earth had even come close. One thing Voldemort had learned about fighting the Force was that it was… fun.

The Dark Lord looked at the sleek black starship sitting nearby. He recognized it; an X-wing fighter prototype, though a little longer. It was obviously Vader's. Voldemort figured it would be an excellent transport back to the core of the Empire. The Emperor had double-crossed him many years before. It was time for payback.

Voldemort figured there was no point in subverting the Empire now. It controlled most of the galaxy, and he could simply rule by proxy. He would cast his Imperius curse on Palpatine, as he had done so many decades before, and direct everything the Emperor did.

He could not do it yet, however. His strength had been sapped by his battle with the two Siths. The Killing Curse had not worked on Vader, and Voldemort knew that using anything but the simplest spell, such as the Stupeficus Curse, was too dangerous. Suppressing the power of the Force would require his greatest effort.

Voldemort lifted the Emperor into the starship and got in. He fired up the four plasma engines and grinned. This was a powerful machine. As he lifted off and flew low over the planet's surface, he realized there was another stop to make on Tatooine if he truly wanted to secure the future of the Empire. But in his weakened state, that would have to wait. For now, Vader remained his greatest obstacle.


	9. Traitors

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 9**

**Traitors**

The mobilization was immediate. Every starship in the Empire from the smallest shuttles to the city-sized Star Destroyers was out looking for the traitor. His last known location, Mos Eisley, on the remote and desolate Tatooine, was swarming with Imperial storm troopers.

None of the Imperial subjects or soldiers knew exactly why the Emperor had issued such a decree against his own apprentice, but the orders were clear and unquestionable: Locate and destroy the traitorous Sith Lord Darth Vader.

The workers on the project Vader had overseen, the building of several X-Wing fighter prototypes, were on the edge of revolt. The Emperor had many of them questioned, some several times, and always with extreme aggression.

Vader's treason supposedly had something to do with the X-Wing project. The demonstration that Vader had failed to oversee went disastrously. An out of control fighter caused the deaths of dozens in the audience and maimed hundreds more. Palpatine would normally not care, but the project was also behind schedule. It was thought that he suspected Vader of sabotage, kickbacks, or both.

A pall of discontent had fallen over the factory, with the Emperor constantly in his chambers. The place was always more fun to be around when the relatively jovial Vader was in charge. Many of them wondered who the new guy was; the bald, sniveling albino with the black cloak. He always seemed to tag along whenever the Emperor walked the corridors.

On Wednesday, the Emperor's new apprentice Voldemort was on the warpath. He had learned from the daily inventory count that a plasma synthesis unit was missing and not one of the workers was able to provide any clues about it. These things were big. For one to suddenly disappear from the building would have taken a great deal of conspiracy. The Dark Lord suspected that only Vader could have accomplished this.

"Corinda, please bring up the access log from the past week," Voldemort said cordially as he entered the administration office. He had done everything he could to appear friendly, by smiling, carrying a binder, and wearing glasses. It amazed him that Potter was able to trudge through his meaningless life wearing such an uncomfortable apparatus on his face. Maybe it was easier with a nose, he figured.

His ruse didn't work, however. Apparently just being Palpatine's apprentice was enough to send people scurrying into bathrooms whenever Voldemort approached. Corinda clearly loathed him, though she tried to hide behind a façade of extreme obedience.

"Yes, your Lordship, Sir. I can do that," she said tepidly. She tapped a few buttons on the workstation in front of her and Voldemort heard a series of irritating beeps.

"Oh, what is it now?" Corinda sighed.

"What? What's wrong?" Voldemort demanded, forgetting to smile.

"It's the database, it's down again."

"Let me see," Voldemort said, putting on his phony air again. He put down his folder and slid next to Corinda. She cringed. Most of the workers agreed that they felt a chill whenever he was around.

"No, it's not working," she said. "It's-"

"Move!" Voldemort yelled. Corinda shrieked and backed away, terrified.

Voldemort smiled again. "I was, I was just, uh, kidding, see? Ha ha! Get it?"

Corinda stood with her back against the file cabinets. She stared at him and shook her head slowly.

"Very well," Voldemort said. He turned to the terminal and tapped a few keys. A message came up that read, "Server unable to respond, please try again later." Voldemort groaned and Corinda slid further away from him.

Voldemort tapped a few more keys and saw the same message. He angrily reached into his cloak and started to pull out his wand, but he stopped, looking at the terrified secretary.

"Corinda, my dear, where is the server room?" Voldemort asked, smiling again, though weakly.

"Out in the warehouse," she said, pointing toward the corridor. "In the back,"

"Thank you," he said, and then left. Corinda exhaled. She could not have gotten him out of there quickly enough. She looked up and saw Voldemort's binder still sitting on the desk.

Voldemort stormed into the warehouse with a loud flourish. He saw the workers back away from whatever they were doing. They made sure not to make eye contact with the wizard, but they also kept watch on him as he passed through.

The warehouse was the size of a hangar, and Voldemort had to walk all the way across it to get to the server room. A transport ship had just arrived, and a deliveryman dressed in a brown uniform with shorts walked right up to him, holding out an electronic tablet and a stylus. His label read "IPS".

"Sign for this, Sir?" the man said.

"What is it? I'm busy." Voldemort answered without breaking stride.

"Just a shipment, Sir, a replacement plasma unit."

Voldemort stopped. "How is this possible?" he demanded, looking around the room at the workers.

"I don't know, Sir, I just make the deliveries."

Voldemort scowled at the fool in the brown uniform. His insolence would mean certain death if Voldemort was not trying to hide his power. "Let's see this plasma unit," he said.

Several of the workers ran to the gaping doors of the transport and began to pull out the crate. It was large enough to house a full-sized Rancor, and required its own wheels.

"Open the box!" Voldemort ordered.

The workers pried open the crate and the panel fell to the floor, revealing the huge, grey device. It was shaped like a cylinder, and had hardly any features other than a button panel and some warnings stenciled on the side.

Voldemort frowned, and then took the tablet and signed it. The deliveryman took it and closed the doors.

"Good work getting a new one so quickly," Voldemort said to the workers. "There is still the matter of the missing-"

"Sir! Sir!" a voice yelled from the door to the corridor. It was Corinda. "The server's back up!"

Voldemort watched as the transport ship hovered out through the giant hangar doors. The workers went back to what they were doing. Corinda stood in the doorway and waited.

"Fine," Voldemort said, marching back toward the office. After reading the access logs, he saw there were too many workers in and out of the warehouse. There was no way to tell who removed the plasma synthesis unit. He took his binder and left in a huff.

Something outrageous was definitely going on, but Voldemort was unable to get a read from any of the workers' tiny minds. He headed back to his chamber to think about what to do. On the way there, he stopped by Palpatine's chamber. The two guards stood aside to let him through the doors.

Palpatine sat behind his desk, with a vacant look in his eyes and drool dripping onto his cloak. He looked up at Voldemort as he approached.

"Oh, look at you," Voldemort said. "Disgusting." He took a tissue and wiped Palpatine's face. The Emperor looked more haggard than usual, and clearly needed something to eat, but Voldemort figured it could wait until the morning. He renewed the Imperius curse and retreated to his own chamber.

That night, a light glowed from underneath the double doors to the server room. Inside, about two dozen of the factory workers huddled together, some sitting on crates, and others leaning against the server racks. Corinda sat in the middle.

"I can't take any more of this," said one of the men.

"Yeah, we almost got nailed today. Are you sure the mind block is working, Corrie?" asked another one.

Corinda looked at them somberly. "It is working, but today was a close call. He almost saw the program."

"And it's all coming from these servers?" said another.

"Yes," said Corinda. "It's a powerful magnetic field. Our minds can't be read as long as we stay in the building."

"So the plasma unit is back. What now?"

Corinda looked them. "I don't think we can wait any longer. We have to do this now."

"Are you sure we're ready?" asked a worker.

"Guys, how ready do we need to be?" Corinda asked. "You said you can't take this anymore. The guards, the questionings. The Emperor and this new apprentice-"

"Yeah, I don't know who's creepier."

"Then the plan has to start now," Corinda said.

"But we know what the Empire will do," said a man.

"We'll be fugitives immediately," added another.

"They'll call us rebels," another declared.

"Guys, there is something you have to know," Corinda said. The men groaned. "It's this." She held up a copy of a reorganization plan from Voldemort's binder. "This says the company is no longer going to be contracted with the Empire," she said, followed by a cacophony of grousing.

"What?" several of the men yelled.

"What about the X-Wing project?"

"What about our jobs?"

"Oh, your jobs will still be there, guys," she told them. "The company is going to be absorbed into the Empire."

All of the workers fell silent. They knew what this meant. Working for the Emperor as contractors was incredibly tiresome, but nationalizing the company would be devastating. Skilled engineers and pilots were to become equal to random clones. They would be just like the Emperor's own slaves.

"This cannot stand, guys," one worker said.

"Yeah!" several responded.

"Let's do this," another man said. He opened the doors and went out into the dark warehouse, and several others followed him. Corinda stood and followed the workers out.

They went to the large cylindrical plasma synthesis unit and punched a few of the buttons. Several hydraulic servos hissed and retracted. The cylinder opened and the men stood back. Many of them kneeled while others stood aghast.

Darth Vader stepped out of the cylinder and looked at them. "Thank you for arranging this, Corinda," he said.

"We needed you back, my Lord," she answered. "This new guy is killing us."

"Well, we're going to kill him," Vader said.


	10. A Rebellion Begins

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 10**

**A Rebellion Begins**

The Emperor and his heavily-armed entourage moved through the corridor with a sense of purpose. Voldemort's cowering figure brought up the rear, held in low esteem by even the cloned storm troopers.

The plan was simple. They were about to take over the factory by force, planting storm troopers in every hangar, office, corridor, and warehouse. The company and its workers were about to become the property of the Emperor himself, and all contracts would be null and void.

As for the whereabouts of the traitorous Darth Vader, the recent disappearance of the plasma synthesis unit, and the trouble with the servers, the behavior of the workers was highly suspect. The Emperor planned a systematic inquisition, which nobody would expect, that included extreme torture and even death. He would start with the redheaded secretary.

The Emperor burst into the administration office and yelled, "Corinda! I need you to-"

Palpatine looked around the room. It was empty. Not only was Corinda not sitting at her terminal, but the terminal itself was gone. The file cabinets were gone, marked only by a section of wall slightly paler than the rest of the room. Bare network cables hung from holes in the walls, and a single stark, bare light bulb hung overhead. Even the fixture was missing.

Palpatine stormed out of the room. Voldemort looked aghast at the scene, and then followed the rest of the group.

They entered the giant hangar, and saw a very similar scene. The shelves were completely bare, and the assembly machinery had been removed, evidenced only by sheared bolts in the floor. Every one of the X-Wing prototypes was gone, including the black ship Voldemort had taken from Tatooine, and the remains of the ship wrecked during the demonstration. The empty box that had arrived with the plasma unit stood empty. Beyond, they could see the open server room, also emptied of its contents.

Palpatine screamed loudly and reached out to each side with bolts of energy, quickly killing two of his storm troopers. "How could this be?" he demanded. He turned to Voldemort, yelling, "You have betrayed me! How could you not see this?"

Voldemort kneeled immediately and bowed his bald head to the floor. "My Master," he said. "I have failed you. You must bring your justice upon me."

The armed men turned and trained their weapons upon Voldemort. The Emperor walked toward him and scowled. "Your failure can be erased," he said, "only with your assistance in finding and destroying this rebellion."

Voldemort looked up. "I have no doubt the traitor is behind this, Master."

"Very well," said Palpatine. "Rise, and we will cleanse the Empire of this filth."

Voldemort stood, maintaining a slight bow in his posture. The men raised their laser weapons away, and Palpatine ordered them to begin a full-scale search of the star system, and to ready a Star Destroyer for him. All Imperial troops were to abandon the factory planet immediately.

Before long, the Emperor and Voldemort stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer, watching Imperial fighters race toward the vacant factory complex. Only a few strikes were needed to reduce the entire region to rubble, leaving vast scorch marks that were visible from orbit.

Palpatine searched his mind for any sign of Lord Vader. He could find nothing, but it wasn't entirely his fault. His mind was clouded by the spell over him; a curse cast by his apprentice Voldemort, causing his every word and movement. Voldemort stood next to him, also reaching out for Vader and the factory workers. The wizard suddenly opened his eyes.

"Master," he said in his high-pitched hiss. "The traitors have gone to Naboo."

Palpatine paused as he thought about the prospect, and so did Voldemort. Both of them realized it was an excellent place to hide. It was lush and vast, critical to sustaining, or disrupting, commerce in the Empire, and was also rife with independent spirits. For these reasons, the Empire had established a large presence there. The traitors had essentially hidden directly under the Emperor's nose.

The starship armada gathered and began to position itself for the hyperdrive jump to Naboo. Storm troopers had already rounded up the Queen and several dignitaries.

"Ready on your order, sir," said one of the bridge officers, directly to the Emperor.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed and lashed out with his wand. The officer immediately hit the floor and cried out in unbearable pain. Several members of the bridge crew looked, and then turned back to their stations. Voldemort finally pulled his wand away and glared at the terrified man.

"We have a chain of command here!" Voldemort yelled. "All of you will speak directly to me. Got that?"

The crew nodded.

"Go to hyperdrive! And get this insolent fool off my bridge," Voldemort said. Some of the crew helped the officer up and escorted him out.

Voldemort looked out the windows and saw the other ships going to hyperdrive. He grinned as they disappeared into nothing. They seemed to leave a hole in space shaped like a starship. It was not at all gimmicky like he had seen in the movies. Then the star destroyer they were on made the jump, and Voldemort looked at the Emperor, who nodded.

Naboo was a dangerous place for the rebel workers to go, because it was suspected to be a seat of resistance. The engineers from the company and their X-Wing development knowledge could turn a small resistance into a powerful force. Voldemort and the Emperor were resolved to snuff them out, even if it meant demolishing the whole planet.

The ships finally arrived at Naboo and contacted the Queen's palace, where she and the dignitaries were being held.

"Queen Kayala, do you know who this is?" Voldemort asked over the communications portal.

"I do not. Please state your purpose," said an aristocratic voice. Voldemort seethed. He remembered a queen like this from decades before, and twice a day he thought about embedding her in a wall. The old hate came flooding back.

"This is Darth Voldemort. We demand your assistance with the capture of the rebels."

"I know of no rebellion here," replied the Queen. "If you have evidence of such a transgression, we shall allow your authorities a limited search."

Voldemort curled his hand angrily. If only he had Vader's choking grip, he thought. The Emperor stood close by, listening to the whole conversation.

"Destroy her," Palpatine said. Voldemort and the rest of the crew stared at him in shock.

"You heard me. Wipe the palace from the surface."

Voldemort grinned. "Yes, my Master." Her nodded to the crew, and the ship's immense plasma cannons whirled around and took aim at the palace.

"Oh, Queenie," Voldemort said. "We will not require your assistance after all."

"Excuse me?" said the voice.

"Do it!" Voldemort said to the crew. The huge cannons powered up and fired. From the ship, the explosion appeared as a tiny silent flash on the planet's surface. On the ground, the massive strike obliterated the palace, shook the city and killed the Queen, along with thousands of unsuspecting citizens.

From a defunct hangar several miles from the palace, Darth Vader felt the tremor and watched the plume of smoke and debris rising into the sky.

"Sir, what was that?" asked one of the workers.

Vader turned and started walking toward the X-Wing fighters standing ready. "That is our cue," he said. "Ready?"

The workers nodded. Several of them were already dressed in flight gear. Not only were they skilled engineers, but more than a few were accomplished pilots from the old Army of the Republic. They had flown with Jedi, and were now about to join Vader. All they knew was that he was a traitor to the Empire, and that was good enough for them.

Corinda stood by the ladder of Vader's fighter. He approached, and she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the side of his helmet. He turned to her in surprise.

"That's to make sure you come back," she said.

"Corinda, I am not coming back," he said to her. "If I do, I will have regained my service to the Empire, and I will seek to destroy you."

Corinda's eyes started to dampen.

Vader lowered his voice to a whisper. "Because you have helped me this far, I will advise you with this: As soon as we are gone, take everyone, everything, and leave."

"But where should we go?" Corinda asked tearfully.

"It is best for you that I never know," Vader said.

Corinda backed away with tears streaming down her cheeks. Vader climbed into his black ship as the others climbed into theirs. Support crew removed the ladders and released fuel lines. Vader powered up the engines and grinned.

"You will follow my instructions," Vader said into the radio. "Our target is the white apprentice, not the Emperor."

"Yes, Sir," replied several voices on the loudspeaker.

The six prototype X-Wing fighters rose into the air and hovered out through the hangar doors. As soon as they were clear of the building, they blasted toward the Imperial armada.

"Yes, yes," said Voldemort from the starship bridge. "I see you. It is here we meet again. This is our time."

Palpatine looked at him curiously.

"Sorry, Master," Voldemort said. "The traitor has shown himself. Shall I take a squadron and engage?"

Palpatine nodded mildly. Voldemort spun and left, looking for the flight deck. He turned to one of the storm troopers, who pointed the way.

Voldemort entered a gigantic room that held dozens of small fighters, each with a small pod-like cabin and two large vertical foils. He knew what they were; TIE fighters. This was going to be fun.


	11. Out of the Sunset

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 11**

**Out of the Sunset**

Voldemort climbed into one of the TIE fighters and looked around. The symbols and buttons were difficult to figure out, but he had learned the rudimentary controls for the X-Wing pretty quickly. Voldemort pulled out his wand and began to discern how to fly the thing.

"Sir! Fighters are headed this way," another pilot said into his radio. All other personnel were running out of the launch bay as the airlocks began to close.

"I know," Voldemort answered. "Let's move!"

The huge bay doors opened, revealing the bright blue planet beneath them and the black sky surrounding it. The TIE fighters rose and blasted out of the launch bay. They headed for the planet's surface, where six X-Wing fighters rose to meet them. Voldemort saw the tiny dots glinting in the bright sun.

"I sense you," a voice said in his head.

"Stay off the conn!" Voldemort ordered the pilots.

"No, it's not your men. Whatever you are, wherever you are from, I am going to send you back." It was Vader, speaking to him using the Force.

Two could play at this game, Voldemort figured. "I have come to destroy you, Vader," he thought. "Through Palpatine, I will rule this galaxy."

Vader laughed. "You underestimate the power of the dark side. If I do not defeat you, the Emperor will."

"Vader," Voldemort said with a chuckle.

"What?"

"Shut up and fight!"

Instantly, laser fire from Voldemort's ship flashed past, and Vader realized they were in range. "Fire!" Vader yelled.

The TIE fighters spread out to surround the X-Wings, firing their lasers rapidly. Darth Vader zeroed in on Voldemort and fired. The dark wizard immediately evaded his attack.

"Not bad!" Vader yelled.

Voldemort spun his ship around and fired again, hitting one of Vader's laser cannons. "You were saying?" he taunted.

Vader tilted the X-Wing to one side and dropped out of sight. Voldemort looked through the cockpit windows but could not see Vader's ship. Nearby, he saw the other X-Wing pilots obliterating several of the other TIE fighters.

"Idiots," thought Voldemort.

"Imperial clones are useless," he heard Vader say. "In a dogfight, you need real pilots."

Suddenly, Voldemort felt the ship shudder as laser fire nailed his right foil. He saw the foil disintegrate and the ship began to rotate out of control.

"My yard!" Vader laughed.

Voldemort's ship started to spin wildly, and he pulled out his wand. "Ex post factimus!" he yelled. The ship instantly righted itself. He saw Vader's ship coming right toward him.

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort yelled. Vader's controls slipped out of his hands and the X-Wing lurched to one side, dropping into a barrel roll. Voldemort took aim and fired his lasers, hitting one of the engines. Vader grabbed the controls and headed for the planet's surface with Voldemort in pursuit.

The other X-Wing pilots gave chase, followed by the remaining TIE fighters. Only half of them were left.

As the ships entered Naboo's atmosphere, Voldemort started to feel his ship shudder. His spell could sustain the ship for a few minutes, but could not restore the craft's missing foil. It suddenly fell into a tumble again.

Vader brought the black X-Wing around and chased Voldemort's out-of-control fighter. "You failed to understand your craft's capabilities," he said to Voldemort.

Voldemort saw the planet's cloud cover grow ever closer, and then the ground. Vader chased him and fired his lasers the whole way, but was unable to hit the spinning ship.

"Now I will watch you die," Vader said as the ground approached. It was only a few thousand feet below them.

Voldemort looked around the cockpit for the button he needed, and finally found it. He pulled the stick to slow the fighter and the X-Wings and the other TIE fighters blew past him. He pressed the button and his ship blew apart, leaving Voldemort flying through the sky without it.

As Voldemort drifted over Naboo's surface, he saw the ruins of the blackened palace below. Beyond it, he saw Naboo's sun setting above the distant mountains, painting the clouds red and purple. Except for the destroyed palace, it was a typical Naboo scene, full of radiant color and beauty. Far off, he saw the X-Wings finishing a wide arc, and he rose higher into the sky as their silhouettes came directly at him.

The X-Wings fired their laser cannons. Voldemort raised his wand and deflected the beams away with ease. He laughed as the ships blew past, followed by the TIE fighters.

The X-Wings circled and began another run at the wizard. They fired, and Voldemort again deflected the beams. This time, he noticed one of the ships coming directly at him.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Sectumsempra!" he yelled, and two of the ship's wings sheared off, causing the X-Wing to spin wildly toward the dark wizard. Voldemort flew higher, just missing the sheared wings spinning past him. The ship's engines suddenly exploded, sending the ship tumbling toward the ground in a cloud of fiery debris.

"Too cowardly to try it yourself, Vader?" he demanded.

"One strike and you'll vaporize," Darth Vader replied. "It's only a matter of time."

"Very well, I've got all day for this, Vader."

The X-Wings turned on the TIE fighters and attacked, blasting three of them into shards of metal and fire. Two more of the rebel fighters came after Voldemort, this time from different angles. Voldemort was frustrated that he could not cast his spells until they got too close. He needed to plan.

As the fighters flew closer, they fired. Voldemort apparated to a point just above them. "Imperio!" he yelled as the ships flew underneath. He could now control one of the pilots with his mind.

Vader's black ship had just finished blasting the rest of the TIE fighters, and turned toward Voldemort. He suddenly found himself on a collision course with one of his own pilots.

"Descend! Now!" Vader yelled into the radio, but the ship headed straight at him. Vader rolled his ship to avoid it.

Voldemort laughed and kept his wand trained on his X-Wing pilot. His ship wheeled around and started to chase one of the other X-Wings, firing all four lasers repeatedly.

Vader looked out his window and saw the rogue ship destroy one of the other fighters. "Kill him!" he yelled to his other pilots through the radio.

The other two X-Wings chased Voldemort's ship. The dark wizard aimed his wand and brought his pilot around to chase Vader again. He trained on Vader and fired the lasers rapidly, hitting one of Vader's engines. Then the cannons on Voldemort's controlled X-Wing shut down.

"You burned out your cannons, fool!" yelled Vader.

The three ships rose overhead, chasing the rogue pilot. Voldemort brought the burned-out fighter around to collide with the others, and they took aim and fired.

Voldemort's X-Wing exploded in a fireball and plummeted past him as the three fighters regrouped and dove. Voldemort cast his wand upward. "Reducto!" he yelled. He nailed one of the ships, and it suddenly crumpled like tissue paper. Its pilot screamed as the cockpit collapsed and crushed him. The ball of metal plummeted toward Voldemort, and he disapparated just as the ship exploded, taking out the other X-Wing. Vader pulled out of the dive to avoid the fireball.

Voldemort re-appeared well below the scene and watched Vader's black ship careen through the sky above him.

"Where are you?" Vader demanded.

"Getting ready for your end," Voldemort replied.

"Ah, I have you," Vader said, and his ship turned toward Voldemort. Vader tightened the crosshairs on his aiming system and flattened out his approach.

Voldemort watched the X-Wing coming closer and stretched out his arm, wand held ready. Then he smiled.

Voldemort put his wand back into his cloak, and rubbed his bare hands together. He had always wanted to try this, and he was fairly certain it would work.

Vader watched the wizard floating in midair without his wand, and laughed. "It is a pity you would surrender, but that is fine with me." He took aim and began to press the trigger.

Voldemort held out both of his hands and gathered his power, shutting his eyes tightly. Suddenly, bolts of electricity streamed from his fingertips at Vader's X-Wing. The electricity enveloped the ship, shutting down the engines.

"No!" Vader screamed, as the ship glided into a slow-motion spin. Voldemort kept the energy bolts trained on the ship as it hurled past him. He began to feel incredible pain, like he had felt on Tatooine at the hands of the Emperor. He let go, and Vader's ship spun toward the palace ruins below.

Darth Vader struggled to bring the coasting X-Wing under control. He got the ship to stop spinning, and used the foils to glide the ship toward the obliterated palace. Vader readied his hands over the cockpit release button.

Voldemort watched the fighter drift toward the ground. He disapparated, intending to be in position for a quick kill.

Vader's ship flattened out just above the surface. He ejected the cockpit window and jumped out, his light saber ready to strike. As the X-Wing crashed into the plaza, Vader felt the urge to ram his own light saber through his chest.

The Sith Lord turned around just before landing, and saw Voldemort flying from above with his wand held toward him. Vader realized what was going on. The white wizard was trying to use the control curse on him.

Both of them noticed that it was much darker here on the ground, where the sun had already set.

"That trick may work with the Emperor in his weakened state, but not with me," Vader said, swiping at the white wizard with his light saber.

Voldemort spun backwards and aimed his wand at Vader. "Expelliarmus!" he yelled as he landed on the ground.

Vader felt the light saber leave his glove, and he spun to grab it with his other hand. He tightened his grip and ran at the wizard, reaching out with his free hand.

Voldemort smiled. He had reached the pinnacle of dark wizardry, facing Darth Vader in the shadow of a devastated palace. He raised his wand, ready for the Sith Lord's attack.


	12. The Truth of the Dark Side

Voldemort vs. Vader

(All characters and place names are the property of J.K. Rowling or George Lucas. Without them, none of this is possible.)

**Chapter 12**

**The Truth of the Dark Side**

Darth Vader ran across the blackened plaza and raised his free hand. A huge column lying on the ground flew at Voldemort, who aimed his wand at it.

"Pulvis et Umbra Sumus!" Voldemort yelled, turning the giant pillar to a cloud of dust. He swept out his wand, throwing Vader backwards to the ground. Vader lifted another huge chunk of marble and threw it at the wizard. "Et Cetera!" Voldemort yelled, and the chunk disintegrated.

"Is that all you have, Vader?" Voldemort demanded.

Through the creeping twilight, Vader saw the Emperor's shuttlecraft and a dozen TIE fighters approaching the palace's devastated landing area. He swept the light saber high over his head and smashed it into the ground. A rift opened in the charred plaza and with a massive tremor, tore a wide crack in the ground. Voldemort levitated out of the way.

Vader jumped to the other side of the crack and reached out to choke the wizard. Voldemort blocked it with his wand.

"I've had enough of this," Voldemort said. "Avada Kedavra!" he yelled, and cast the familiar green stream toward Vader. Vader blocked the curse with his light saber, and it bounced to the ground, widening the crack. The crevice was so deep the bottom was impossible to see in the darkness.

Voldemort cast a powerful shock wave at Vader, and Vader deflected it at the nearby wall, demolishing it.

"You fight like a crazed wookiee!" Vader said. "You cannot defeat a Sith Lord without discipline."

"Quid pro quomus!" Voldemort yelled, and Vader suddenly realized he was holding only a thin wooden stick. He saw the white wizard holding his glowing red light saber. Voldemort had used the trading curse to take his weapon.

He jumped across the crevice at the Sith Lord and swung with the light saber, as Vader jumped out of the way.

"A mistake," Vader said, holding the wand. "This thing may be useless to me, but that weapon has tricked you." He held up a gloved hand and Voldemort felt the light saber pull away. He tightened his grip, and Vader raised his hand and threw Voldemort across the plaza. Voldemort swung the light saber again, but Vader swept his hands downward and the weapon crashed into the scorched marble plaza instead.

Voldemort struggled to break Vader's control of the light saber. He had not foreseen this. Voldemort relaxed his mind and took another broad swing. Vader easily jumped out of the way, but this time, the dark wizard had a plan.

With his free hand, Voldemort cast a massive bolt of electricity. Vader landed directly in its path and screamed. He fell to his knees in pain. He reached out with the wooden wand, but it was useless to him. His chestplate began to sizzle. He would not survive long if it shorted out.

Voldemort intensified the bolts of energy, and felt the power of the dark side course through his veins. He realized he had gotten the trick from the Emperor at Mos Eisley. He knew he could kill Vader with it. As Vader's breathing started to falter, Voldemort laughed loudly and walked toward the dying Sith Lord. Another great story was about to change forever.

"Apprentice! Stop!" a voice yelled.

Voldemort released the energy bolts and looked through the gloom. He saw Palpatine enter the plaza, accompanied by several storm troopers. Voldemort smiled.

"Master, you've arrived," Voldemort said. "May I destroy the traitor now?" Voldemort asked. He held the light saber above Vader's neck. One strike and it would be over.

Palpatine approached and looked at them. "You fight well. You have proven a match for a formidable enemy." He stopped and pulled something out of his cloak. In the faint starlight, Voldemort saw that it was a brightly-colored quill.

"Do you remember this?" Palpatine asked as Vader looked up with curiosity, his mechanical breathing still heavy.

"Yes, Master, I do," Voldemort said.

"It is how I released your horcrux. You told me everything about them, and that the best way to release one is to use a wand once held by the soul it carries." Palpatine said.

Voldemort realized something was wrong. He felt no control over Palpatine at all. The Emperor turned the brightly colored quill over and examined it.

"It was found near Mos Eisley," Palpatine continued. "It allowed me to release your soul from that crashed ship."

"Yes, Master," Voldemort said with creeping fear, "so that I could fight by your side and help you rule the Empire."

"No," said Palpatine. "So I could destroy you! Crucio!" Palpatine screamed as he held out the wand. Voldemort fell to the ground in severe pain. He writhed on the plaza floor, still holding the light saber. Darth Vader started to stand up.

"Did you think I learned nothing of your craft?" Palpatine yelled as he held the quill steady.

Voldemort stood, despite the Cruciatus curse being cast against him. He held out the light saber with every bit of his strength and finally blocked the spell.

Vader stood up and held his hand out to call the light saber, and Voldemort lost his grip on it. As Vader caught the weapon, he threw Voldemort's wooden wand into the air and swung at it with the light saber, splitting it in two.

"No!" Voldemort yelled. He held out both hands and cast a bolt of electricity at Palpatine. The Emperor absorbed everything Voldemort threw at him, and then cast the bolts of energy back through the quill. Voldemort fell to the ground.

"You are no match without your stick," said the Emperor. "Do you know why the dark side is so powerful?"

Voldemort screamed loudly in excruciating pain.

"Most think it was always so," Palpatine said. "But they are wrong." Palpatine intensified the energy bolts.

"The dark side became incredibly powerful in one night. I remember it well," Palpatine told him. "I was only seven years old, and my father felt a shift in the Force."

Vader walked slowly toward the Emperor and shut off the light saber.

"He began to draft a bill to improve Naboo's security." Palpatine said as he stopped the bolts of energy.

"He used this," he said, lifting the quill.

Voldemort looked at him with his eyes full of fear. He tried to disapparate, but he was too terrified to clear his mind.

"Then you broke in and took it from my father, do you remember?" Palpatine asked. "Right before you killed him!"

Vader looked at the Emperor curiously. He powered up his light saber and looked at Voldemort cowering on the floor.

"With you around, the dark side increased. Slavery became rampant. The Trade Federation expanded. The Jedi began to lose their hold on peace," Palpatine said, staring at Voldemort. "You are the foundation of the Empire itself."

"I am the power behind the dark side?" Voldemort said.

"Yes. Even after I killed you, your horcrux kept the dark side strong," Palpatine said.

Voldemort began to stand up. "Then you cannot kill me. The Empire could not survive!" he said weakly.

The Emperor laughed loudly for a horrifyingly long moment. "You fool, there is another horcrux," he hissed.

"What? How?" Voldemort demanded as he stood.

Palpatine pointed at Darth Vader. "It is him," he said. "When you failed to kill Vader on Tatooine, you created another horcrux. Your soul now lives within him."

Voldemort's face contorted as he considered this horror. How had he not seen this? It was exactly how he created Harry Potter's horcrux. Every thirteen-year-old girl on Earth had figured that out. In one terrifying instant, Voldemort realized it was true. "No!" he screamed.

"Destroy him, Vader."

"With pleasure, Master," Darth Vader said as he raised the light saber high. He brought it down on the cowering Voldemort and slashed off his head. With a few more strokes, he sent the pieces of the wizard skittering into the crevice. They disappeared into the blackness. Voldemort was dead.

The Emperor and Vader stood on the plaza, surrounded by storm troopers. Before them, the ruins of Naboo's demolished palace city stretched into the distance. There were so many buildings destroyed and so many people dead.

"Leave us!" Palpatine ordered the storm troopers. Once they were alone, he said, "It did not have to be this way."

"Master, he did this?" Vader asked, looking at the devastated city.

"He had me under mental control, and I barely remember it, but the whole time I struggled to break through."

"I am glad you did, Master," Darth Vader said.

"I confess, I might have done this myself," Palpatine said, gesturing to the destroyed palace. "I am a Sith Lord, you know." He looked at Darth Vader and smiled.

"What of him?" Vader asked, looking at the crevice in the palace ground.

"I'm sure that is the last we'll see of him, Vader."

"Master, I mean, what of his horcrux, his soul within me, the dark side's power? Is that true?" Vader asked.

"It is," Palpatine answered.

"Then when I die, the dark side dies with me."

"Perhaps," Palpatine said. "But there is one option; a living horcrux can transfer the soul to his offspring if he looks into the child's eyes with his own, and wishes for salvation."

"But I have no children," Vader said.

"Then your death will truly be the end of the dark side's reign," said the Emperor with sadness.

Vader thought once more of his wife, Padme, and her tragic end. The future of the Empire depended on his children, and now he had doomed it by killing her over a year before. "I shall not think about Padme ever again," he told Palpatine.

"Good."

"As for Voldemort-"

"As for Voldemort, we can never reveal the source of the dark side's power," the Emperor interrupted. "From now on we shall call him, 'He who must not be named.'"

The two Sith Lords looked at the sky, now completely dark except for the sparse stars of the outer rim. One of them was actually a pair of suns that spun around each other, causing gravitational wobbles that appeared as bright twinkles to Vader and Palpatine. Orbiting them was a small, dusty, barely inhabited world that held the future of the Empire, the dark side of the force, and the immortality of a certain dark wizard.

THE END


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